


Heartache

by avigil



Series: Tales from the Wasteland [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: AU? Head cannon? theory?, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Head Injury, M/M, Synth Courier 6 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avigil/pseuds/avigil
Summary: After an accident reveals something about her that not even she knew, the Courier and her companions must reevaluate just what it means to be human...





	1. Outer Vegas Ambush

“Behind you!” Ximena spun, but not fast enough.

Before she could even see their face the Fiend was on top of her, the butt of their gun on a downward swing toward her unprotected face as she went tumbling into the dust at her feet. Her plasma rifle went firing off over her head in a flash of green light as her fingers clenched around the trigger in a jolt of pain due to the knee at her elbow, and stars swirled in the corners of her eyes. The acrid smell of jet on his breath was overwhelming and the surprised courier couldn’t do anything but cry out pain exploded at her temple. 

Veronica could only see the green bursts and the swirl of dust and grit in the shadow of what remained of the skeleton of outer Vegas, and the sounds of her companion’s cry made her heart sink. Her feet couldn’t carry her fast enough to her side before she could see the flailing limbs finally come to a stop, and before her fist was raised the sight of bright crimson made her mind go blank. The sound of her power fist echoed through the concrete framework of the civilization that once had been.  
It took a moment for it all to really sink in. There was blood, and far too much of it, and the courier she had spent months with now lay motionless at her feet and there were no words to rouse her from her death-like state. There was a moment where Veronica was sure she was dead, in all truth. Tears stung hot in the corners of her eyes.  
“Ximena! Fuck… fuck, come on!”  
The wound was hidden behind her mess of curly black hair and the large amount of blood, but she did what she could to wrap it and apply pressure to halt the bleeding. There was something thick and goopy dribbling down from her closed eye, and she didn’t even allow herself a moment to think on what that could be. It didn’t matter. No, she had to get help. This was clearly something a couple stimpacks wasn’t going to fix.  
The walk to old Mormon fort wasn’t really that long, considering the journey’s they had made in the past, but it felt like an eternity before she was pushing and screaming her way through the giant wood front doors. The night sky was dark and cloudy above the sleeping camp and veronica’s cries rang out like thunder. Julie Farkas, her eyes still heavy with sleep, was the first to come stumbling out of her tent to look, but the sleep didn’t stay at the bloody sight. “What the fuck happened?” She cried, and veronica blabbered about a fiend and an accident. 

Arcade awoke at the sound of multiple people calling his name, and he almost considered rolling over and just going back to sleep. The terrified urgency in Julie’s voice was uncommon, however, and there was no way that just anything would force such emotion into her voice. Pulling on his white jacket to stave off the late night chill he came lumbering out to investigate only to have an inconsolable Brotherhood of Steel scribe leap into his arms. “It’s worse than I thought, I don’t know why but it’s so much worse…”  
He held up his hands and closed his eyes, silently imploring her to calm down a bit. “What are you going on about?”  
“Ximena…”  
“What’s happened?”  
“A fiend… a group of fiends jumped us and one of them hit her real hard in the head… I didn’t think he could have done that much damage and she was just hurt or knocked out but there so much blood!”  
It was then that worry began to sneak between the cracks of his crumbling indifferent façade, and rounding a corner into an adjacent tent he found Julie leaning over the seemingly lifeless corpse of his old friend, her hands working a mile a minute. She looked up for just a brief moment, but it was suddenly all quite clear. 

“How long have you know this woman, Arcade?”  
“A few months, why?”  
“I… I don’t know what to think of this, really…”  
“What are you talking about?” He asked with a nervous chuckle to cover up his apprehension.  
He followed her fingers to the startling head would she had just unwrapped, and after a moment of inspecting himself he could see what she meant.  
The wound was coated in thick red blood, as he had expected, but there was something else beneath.  
Something white and metallic, like the parts of…

 

“I’ve never seen something like this before. It’s like she’s…”  
“ A machine.”


	2. A Life Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Courier, Veronica and Arcade must face the question at hand...

The waiting was really killing him.  
Arcade paced the entire dusty interior of the Lucky 38, dreading the moment he knew was coming and coming quick.  
He knew the stories of Synths, artificial men made to look identical to their flesh-and-blood counterparts, but the Commonwealth where the stories had first come was a very far-away place, really. Hell, how would one even get out here? There had been plenty of wild tales from places he only knew of by reputation, and in his mind the synth menace was no different than ghosts, invisible chupacabras or a talking deathclaw.  
But he saw the component, the unmistakable mark of manufacturing…  
“Whoa, whoa easy! Don’t get up so quick hey!”  
Well, better rip the bandaid off… 

 

Ximena opened her eyes, or rather eye, and was greeted by white.  
Stark, blinding white.  
Her breath rattled thickly in her chest and she could only vaguely hear a voice in the far-off distance calling out. There was a loud ringing seemingly reverberating off the insides of her skull that initially showed no sign of ceasing. Then, the longer she roiled about in her panic, the lesser the noise became and the more the white faded along with it. Blotches of sight tore back into her awareness and before long she was lying on the floor of one of the bedrooms in the presidential suite in the Lucky 38 with a very frightened Veronica peering down at her. One of her cool hands was pressed reassuringly on her feverish shoulder, acting to ground her back to earth.  
Of course there was only a brief moment of relief before the pain roared back into her head “SON OF A…”  
“whoa, whoa easy! Don’t get up so quickly hey!” She was up before veronica could pull her back down, and she herself didn’t really know why she was up on her feet. She had to do something, anything, to distract herself from the horrific pain she was in.  
She registered a prick in her neck, and once again opened her eyes.  
Arcade was frowning at her, urging her back to the bed with a strong grip.  
The pain began to ebb away, but not at the speed she desired.  
“What the fuck happened?” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse. He met veronica’s eyes briefly before drawing in a deep breath and recounting their run-in with some fiends.  
It all seemed to sink in, her hand absentmindedly drifting up to touch the white bandages tightly wound around her head.  
“Again? Someone shot me in the head… AGAIN?”  
“Don’t know if they shot you or if the blunt-force trauma just made the old wound easy to open up again or what, but… yeah. Again.”  
Veronica wrapped her arms around her warmly in an attempt to…do something of use. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe…”  
Arcade watched intently as fat distraught tears began to roll tracks through the courier’s filthy sunburnt cheeks. Could synths cry? He couldn’t image a machine crying, but still these synths were something alien to him.  
“Kid, can I ask you a…weird question?”  
Ximena raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “I guess.”  
“Where you from?”  
“What?” “Where’d you grow up?”  
“Why?” “Humor me?”  
She took a deep breath, eyes closing and brows furrowing.  
“I don’t remember a whole lot, I wandered a lot. Been to Reno, Vault City…I’ve told you all this already?  
“No, I mean where were you born? What are your parents’ names?”  
There was long pause as various flashes of confusion danced across her features. “I don’t know.” She then whispered.  
“You what?” Arcade prodded.  
“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”  
“What the fuck do you mean you don’t remember? They’re your parents!”  
“I know but…” Arcade opened his mouth to retort only to halt at the sight of fresh tears. The distress was heavy in the room, and Veronica had to grab hold of her wrists to keep the young courier from swinging them into her vulnerable skull. “I don’t remember! Fuck, I don’t remember! I don’t remember!”  
Part of Arcade knew this was a response he could have foreseen, but honestly it wasn’t the one he thought most probable.  
After five painful minutes of the sorrowful childlike display, Ximena sank back into Veronica’s lap. Always gentle and attentive, Veronica stroked her hair and shot nasty looks the doctor’s way.  
“Why can’t I remember Arcade… did they fuck up my head that bad?”  
Arcade sighed. “I couldn’t tell you, I’m no neurologist. But…”  
He thought briefly a moment on whether or not he really wanted to ask the question at the forefront of his mind after her reaction to being unable to recall her parents.  
“Have you ever heard of a… a synth?”  
It was Veronica who suddenly stiffened. “What about Synths?”  
“You know about ‘em?”  
“Yeah I know about ‘em, every time Elder McNamara manages to get in contact with the East Coast Brotherhood we get an earful of… I don’t know, boogeyman tales? Science run amok?”  
“What’s a synth?”  
The courier’s voice was small and feeble, unlike Arcade had ever heard it.  
There was a genuine fear and curiosity that made guilt was over his heart as there was no faking it. Nobody was that good, especially not her.  
When Ximena lied, there might as well be a neon sign on her forehead that screams I AM A HUGE LIAR LIAR LIAR LIAR…  
“There’s scientists out in the commonwealth, clear across where Boston used to be, and they make artificial people that look just like humans. Downright terrifying if you ask me.”  
“So they’re robots? Androids?”  
“Yeah, but really advanced, indistinguishable from anyone else. I don’t know why they do it, but they do.”  
“Hmmm.” She sat quiet a moment, thinking, before a dark understanding seemed to appear in her gaze. More tears fell.  
“What does this have to do with me, Arcade” She knew. Or, at least, she had a clue.  
“The, uh, wound on your head was really bad. You should be… you shouldn’t have survived it. You shouldn’t have survived the two bullets either but…”  
“The point Arcade.”  
“We… Julie and I… saw something that shouldn’t have been in there. Something… manufactured.” 

“Are you saying Ximena is a fucking Synth Arcade?” It was veronica who hissed at him, looking hurt as if he had just kicked Rex the robodog right in the ribs.  
“I’m saying there is a reason she’s survived two would-be fatal head wounds and there’s a metal component that matches stories and it adds up.”  
“That is one hell of a leap, Gannon!”  
“Stop!” Ximena herself stood, albeit rather wobbly, between them.  
“I want to know what the fuck is wrong with me. Are either of you gonna help me?”  
Both nodded slowly. 

“You really didn’t know?” Arcade wanted so badly to ask. 

“Where do we start?” Veronica asked before he could even part his lips, as she swooped in to break a stint of painful silence. 

“Well, there is one person whose done an awful lot of rootin’ around in your head.” He answered, scrubbing his hands over his face with another sigh.  
The courier closed her eyes and nodded. 

“Guess we head to Goodsprings.”


	3. Just a Copy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It often isn't easy facing the truth...

It was a bad idea from the start, and they all knew it.  
Arcade had insisted they stay at the Lucky 38 a few more days so Ximena could recuperate, but of course neither Veronica nor the injured courier seemed keen on listening and were clearly itching to get out of the dusty cramped space. So, of course, the weary doctor resigned himself to packing up his belongings and following the pair back out into the dreaded wasteland. If it were him who has sustained such an injury, he would have been just fine never leaving the relative safety of New Vegas ever again. Hell, he might have taken one out of Mr. House’s book and his way of only rumor and robots carrying out his will. 

Now, it was clear to see that the Courier was regretting her leaving but was keeping silent about it, as expected. She was the annoyingly aloof sort, skipping ahead and rattling on about something or other, but now she was leaning on Veronica a bit (though clearly trying her best not to) and her face was pinched with pain through the heavy bandages. While he of course felt sympathy for the kid as he would anyone in such pain, Arcade couldn’t help but wonder further about his synth theory.  
Could synths feel pain, or was she programmed to react as if she did as to get her parts replaced for optimal function?  
He had thought of these synths as robots, but robots didn’t eat. Robots didn’t sleep, they just powered down. They sure as hell wouldn’t bleed.  
Or perhaps he was missing something, a vital piece of this whole synthetic human story. It wasn’t like Ximena was going to be giving him any answers anyway. He was inclined to think she was as confused as him, or perhaps even more so. Before their departure, he had tried to pry further but the kid was apparently as in the dark as they were on the topic. That, or she was selectively keeping things from him. He couldn’t tell, but he wanted to think that wasn’t the case. The only reason one would even consider deception was the cloud of paranoia that surrounded the idea of the big bad people in the Commonwealth turning out copies of people.  
There was no way that sarcastic chatterbox was keeping things from him. Not like that. 

 

Veronica kept shooting her companion worried looks as they walked the winding asphalt path. She kept on offering water from her canteen or snacks from her pack, but Ximena refused them. It was apparently painful to shake her head, so she simply grumbled and held up a hand. “I’m fine.”  
Eventually, the Scribe had enough and stopped all together, which nearly made Ximena topple over as she hadn’t expected her support to stop moving.  
“What the fuck? We’re gonna lose daylight if we don’t keep going!”  
“Well I’m not taking another step until you eat something!”  
Arcade watched the two with narrowed eyes, silently intrigued by her every labored move.  
“I told you I’m alright, I’ll eat when we get to Goodsprings.”  
“No, you won’t” Veronica held out the metal container she had been storing her iguana bits in. “You can take a breath and eat.”  
“Why?”  
“What the hell do you mean why?” She snorted in appalled amazement.  
“Because you die when you don’t eat, Ximena, that’s why!”  
The courier’s one exposed eye turned down towards her feet. After a moment, it registered as shame, and Arcade watched Veronica’s shoulders slump down as she pulled her into a gentle hug. “Talk to me. Please.”  
Her voice fell to just a whisper.  
“You’ve barely said anything to me since… since this happened. I know this is all my fault but…”  
Ximena’s head shot up. “It’s not your fault, why would it be your fault?”  
“Because we’re supposed to watch each other’s backs, and I wasn’t…”  
“No, no way. I won’t let you put my shit luck on yourself. I was never… dammit V how could even think that for a second?” She ran a finger down Veronica’s chin, and for a moment Arcade was preparing himself to do the whole Pretend-you-aren’t-there-look-away dance of secondhand embarrassment.  
Instead, however, Ximena looked and backed away, pain evident in the crinkles around her mouth drawn into a tight line.  
“Besides, what’s the use of caring about a cheap copy of a person anyway? Better save it for people who need it.”  
Veronica looked like she had been slapped across the face.  
Arcade’s attention was quickly pulled back to her. 

“Shit, you don’t think that do you?” He found himself saying before he could even think himself.  
She curled her hands into fists, and uncurled them with a huff before turning around to walk forward slowly. “Come on, I don’t feel like walking around out here in the dark.  
Veronica’s eyes glittered with unfallen tears, but she followed suit.  
Arcade jogged up behind her, but didn’t know what to say. 

 

The sky was a brilliant deep orange as the sun began its final decent behind the horizon and the silent group made their way past Primm, all careful to stay near the NCR encampment to stay out of trouble. They were soon making their way up the stretch to Goodsprings, carefully picking off geckos and radroaches out the ditches as they past. Sure, Arcade considered it a waste of energy and ammo if they could simply avoid them, but he wasn’t about the stop Veronica from running past him with her power fist raised at the ready. The loud whack and hiss that signaled its use became the only sound apart from the wind until the neon lights of the Prospector Saloon came into view.  
Ximena took a moment to lean against one of the motorcycles, giving a small pained wave to Easy Pete who was slumped over in his usual spot nursing a sunset sarsaparilla.  
“Hey kid, here to see Sunny Smiles?”  
“Doc Mitchell, actually.” A deep frown darkened the old man’s face.  
“I see. He’s up where he’s always been.”  
She nodded some silent thanks, and struggled for a moment to get herself back up standing, her head apparently spinning. Veronica held out a hand to steady her, and Arcade sighed with relief when she took it gratefully. 

The three made their way to the fence that marked the yard to Doc Mitchell’s house, and the courier’s hand shook as she pushed it open.  
What had the old man kept from her?  
What did her know? What hadn’t he said?  
Betrayal lanced through her heart. What if he knew, and never said anything? Why?  
Part of her wanted nothing more than to have the Doc prove Arcade and Julie Farkas wrong. “Nope, just grey matter in there kiddo. Just as human as your buddies here.”  
But deep inside, she knew he wouldn’t say that.  
Not if he was telling the truth. 

Arcade, Veronica and Ximena all froze dead in their tracks at the sound of a gunshot ringing out from within the ramshackle house. A flash of light accompanying a second gunshot made them all dart in as fast as they could within tripping over one another, guns drawn.  
“Doc? DOC?”  
There was blood all over the ancient rug in the living room, where Ximena had sat before yellowed Rorschach ink plots and a prying doctor once before.  
The old man leaned against the wall, clearly trying to catch his breath, staring indignantly at the stranger sprawled out over his coffee table with two 10mm bullet wounds in his back. He looked surprised to see them all standing there.  
“Well hey there, kid.” He sighed again, this time in clear exasperation.  
"What did you do to your noggin this time?"


	4. The Railroad's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc Mitchell knows a bit more than he let on...

Despite a disgusted sideways glance, Doc Mitchell seemed completely indifferent to the fact that there was a corpse on his carpet.   
He strode over it and straight up to his former patient and cupped her face in his hands, examining the bandaging job Arcade had done with narrow-eyed scrutiny.   
“Eh, not bad. Not that I coulda done much better.” He laughed and dug through his pockets for a penlight. Ximena struggled to back away from his firm grip but found herself still dizzy and fearful she might end up on the floor next to the unwanted intruder. 

Veronica’s attention flitted between Ximena, her eye watering from having the light shown directly in it, and Arcade who was nudging the corpse with the toe of his boot.   
“Doc, who the hell was this?” He called. Doc Mitchell just shrugged. “Don’t know, really. This is the only place for a long while with healin’ materials so they probably just thought they could make some quick caps at my expense. They call this place a wasteland for a reason, ya know.”  
His hands were suddenly at the back of Ximena’s skull, only sort-of gently pulling them away to look at the wreck that had been her left eye.  
She flinched, and swore, but didn’t pull away this time.

The wound was cleaned and as neat as it could be, but it was still a dark bruised hole in the courier’s face. The scar that had been left courtesy of the Chairman Benny ran parallel to a wicked new gash that was still red and scabbed around a new set of stitches. That had been the worst of it. A second new wound now also ran just below her eye socket, a thin yet fairly deep cut where some piece of metal on the gun’s side had gotten her. Ximena wasn’t one to fret over her appearance, if her unruly curls and haphazard manner of dress was anything to go by, but the look of discomfort that bordered on self-consciousness was clear on the uninjured portions of her face. She slowly recounted to him what she remembered from the Fiend attack, and Veronica guiltfully filled in what she left out. The old doctor simply nodded, half listening while half watching Arcade shift nervously from foot to foot.

He had only known of Doc Mitchell by reputation, as word travelled fast but the Mojave was still a big place, but standing in his presence after the man had just pulled the trigger on a stranger whom he was now standing over made him fell… uneasy. “Are we going to pretend THAT didn’t just happen?!” He jabbed a finger at the 10mm Doc Mitchell had set on the table beside him.   
“Son, have you never heard of a raider before?” He chuckled back.   
Arcade rolled his eyes. “A solitary raider attacking one house in an only moderately populated settlement?” He mustered the resolve and flipped the corpse over, examining the leather and sunglasses that had been crushed against his face in the decent to the floor. The Doc turned from Ximena suddenly and spoke with uncharacteristic sternness in his voice.   
“Mr. Gannon, I wouldn’t.”

Poking free from another gunshot square in the man’s forehead was a shiny white and metallic silver component, not unlike one he had seen once before…  
“What the fuck is that?” Ximena and Veronica both snorted in disgust as the watched Arcade pull the sticky red-smeared component from the mess. Doc Mitchell shook his head. 

“Well, knowing you kid I shoulda figured you’d have to find out eventually.”   
“Find out?” Ximena’s voice shook beneath the façade of indifference she put up in times such as these. She watched the doctor rub at his balding head, searching for a place to start. She had paled to a worrying shade. “Well…”   
“Did you know?” Veronica’s patience had worn thin.   
“Did you know she was a synth?”   
“Straight to the point. Yes I knew, but I don’t think any of you really understand what that means.”   
“Then why don’t you enlighten us?”   
“Synths aren’t just mindless machines, no Mr. Handy or Securitron. They are artificial people…”   
“Churned out by a lab on the other side of the country.” Ximena’s head drooped as she finished the thought.   
“Yes, I suppose, but people nonetheless. Look, it wasn’t my decision to not say anything about it when you came to, but if it had been it all woulda been the same. You had two bullets in your brain kid, and if you had been a natural-born human you woulda died up there in the old bone orchard. You barely remembered your name, and I wasn’t about to dump on you somethin like that. Besides, the Railroad musta moved heaven and earth to get you out here.”  
“The Railroad?” Arcade asked, brow furrowed in a look that only meant he was scrutinizing the man’s every word.   
“Yeah the Railroad. Underground groupa synth liberators out in the Commonwealth. There ain’t any members out here but myself, at least not that I know of, but they needed someone out here since they decided to try and get escaped synths as far away from that place as they can. They’ve been payin to send out holotapes advertising recruitment with caravans. People are curious by nature and next thing you know they’re circulatin around spreadin like wildfire. It’s hard to relocate someone so far out so most synths don’t end up going far, but I guess you were one of the few that made it.”   
Ximena swallowed hard. Her hands shook horribly. “So it’s true then.”   
“Afraid so.”   
“And him?” She nodded toward the synth component Arcade still held in his hand.   
“I think he’s what they call a Courser, but in all truth I have never seen one before. Not in the… flesh. I didn’t know they’d be something I would have to worry about out here. Guess I was wrong.” After being met with confused stares from his three guests, he sighed.   
“Escaped synth hunter. How long ago was this incident of yours.”   
“It’s been a couple weeks.”  
“And who knows?”  
“The three of us, and one other doctor with the Followers.”

It was Arcade who spoke up before anyone else could interject.   
“Julie wouldn’t tell anyone. She knew this was sensitive information.”   
“Well that doesn’t much matter now does it. The Coursers have been out here looking for longer than I thought and they at least know something. You three need to stay tight-lipped about this our all three of ya are gonna be in for a world of hurt. Got me?”

“What’s the point?!” Ximena grumbled, swaying where she sat. “If they want me then just…”  
“No. Absolutely not.” Veronica was again at her side. “The three of us are gonna… fuck we’ll go into hiding if we have to. We aren’t abandoning you.”

“Then I suggest the three of you leave… and now… and be very careful who you let in on this information. Look, I don’t know what these bastards know or don’t know but there is nothin we can do from here on out but cover our asses and try to keep business as usual…”  
He then darted away, holding up a finger to keep them from following.   
The room was heavy with apprehension and anxiety. It was an awful lot to process, but it was quickly becoming all too real.   
Veronica held onto the courier’s wrist like she might vanish if she didn’t keep a grip on her. She was her best friend, and it hurt more than anything to see her so… hollow.  
Ximena looked like she might lose her lunch. 

 

The old man rattled on from the next room, but Arcade wasn’t listening.   
Not now that he had noticed the fear now evident in Veronica’s face and how pronounced Ximena had begun to shake. Her swaying had turned into a lean, and Veronica had to hold her steady. 

Her head snapped back suddenly, her single eye rolling back up into her head leaving only the white exposed. 

“Ximena! Arcade, what the fuck is happening?”   
The courier could only watch as the world around her faded into nothingness.


	5. A Father's Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three's company, but sometimes you need all the friends you can get...

The minute Boone made his way through the doors of the Lucky 38, he knew something was wrong. Very wrong. 

It had been a long while since he had met the young courier, the only one who showed any real desire to help him find the scum who had sold his wife away. It had been even longer since he had felt the twinge of fear at the thought of someone who he considered family being in some deep shit. 

He knew quite well that Ximena and Veronica had taken to one another and were probably out doing whatever they pleased in that godforsaken wasteland, but it was unusual to find the entire presidential suite vacant as so many people came in and out nowadays. He was sure he should have at least found Arcade lazing around as he had taken to sleeping in the comfortable beds when not pulling all-nighters at the Fort, but that wasn’t the case.   
Hell, it was cold as a long-abandoned Vault inside.   
It was a small miracle he found the note before he begun the decent into all-out panic. He had felt this all before, and he wasn’t ready to do it again. 

The paper was one of the yellowed fancy stationary that had been in one of the drawers by the bed the Ximena slept in on rare occasions. The top was blackened by scribbles that appeared to almost be words spelling out his name and a greeting, but by the looks of the neat cursive below it, it appeared Arcade had taken over the letter writing task.

“Craig,  
Something’s happened, and the kid needs a doctor to keep her breathing until we get to Goodsprings to get what we need. Veronica’s with us, but I’m not too keen on wandering around out here with her in this condition so we shouldn’t be long. Please don’t worry.   
I suppose Julie could give the short version, but I know you care for the kid a lot and I think you’ll want to hear it from her… or me, given the state she’s in when we get back.   
Again, I’m sorry to worry you. I hope your business in Novac went alright.  
If we aren’t back soon, you know where to go. 

See you soon,  
Arcade. “

 

It felt like a stone had fallen into the pit of his stomach. What the hell had happened to her? Why wouldn’t he have told him the note? Why would they need to go back to Goodsprings? Boone crumpled the note up in his fist and sat on the bed for a moment, originally intent on calming down and waiting as Arcade had suggested, but that wasn’t going to cut it.   
He had been advised against talking to the other Follower’s doctor, but it was the fastest way to get answers and perhaps soothe the mounting anxiety. 

After Carla, he didn’t think he would ever love another person. And he didn’t love the Courier like that. Not like he had his wife, no, but more in the way of a daughter. The daughter he had been robbed of.   
Sometimes he had to stop himself from thinking of himself as her father.   
When he had been introduced to the woman who called herself Cass, and heard her call herself “just a friend”, he knew.   
He knew it wouldn’t last and he knew that despite everything it wasn’t just a friendship.   
He wasn’t surprised when the two parted ways.   
He knew that when he met Veronica under similar pretenses, it was the same. He knew there was more between the courier and her Scribe “friend”   
It was as if he could feel it, as he had felt it before in himself.   
He knew Veronica had a past but wouldn’t leave her, those were old wounds she didn’t want to open up. It was written all over her face, or in the small smiling glances the two shot at each other when he wasn’t looking.   
He wanted fate to treat his adopted daughter better than it had him.  
She’d earned it. 

Julie Farkas was easy enough to find, leaning against the brick wall outside the fort with a cigarette in hand. Her face was shadowed by worry lines and she was clearly deep in thought before Boone’s presence tore her from it. “Fuck, you startled me. You’re uh, Boone right?”  
They hadn’t spoken much before, and he was surprised to see she remembered him from the few times he had come to the Fort following close behind the kid. “You know where they went, or what happened?”  
“Where they went? No, but I know why… yeah, she was here a few weeks ago. If they went through Freeside I didn’t see them go, but it wouldn’t surprise me. She uhh…”   
Boone stepped closer, and Julie’s eyes followed not him but rather the sniper rifle on his back.   
“What happened?”  
“I don’t think I’m the one to tell you that.”   
“Tell me what?” His gruff voice rumbled with anger and impatience.   
“Look, I…”

Before the words could leave her mouth, the sound of a laser rifle shot slamming into and sizzling at the brick wall had them both ducking for cover. Julie cried out, clutching at her shoulder, and Boone was only down for a moment before he was back on his feet with his gun at the ready. A man, clad in leather and sunglasses not unlike his own, was looming over them with a stark white laser weapon he didn’t recognize pointed at his half-crouched figure.   
“I will only ask once, where is the property you’ve been hiding from us?”  
From where he was Boone had little in terms of possibilities. There was slim chance he would be able to raise his weapon to do anything more than shoot out this guy’s knees, and of course the weapon against his forehead was still hot with his trigger finger looking all too ready to take a squeeze.   
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”   
“We have had little luck tracking down property this far out, so I would appreciate compliance to make my job easier. Where is V3-97?”  
“I told you, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”  
At the sound of another gunshot, Boone squeezed his eyes shut. 

Damn, he didn’t think he’d go out like this.

When there was no pain, he opened them to see Julie back on her feet, two wounds sizzling on her shoulder and her right leg, trying to wrestle the weapon from their attacker. In a flash of action free of planning, Boone raised his rifle to his shoulder and took the shot he had been planning on- one bullet straight to the head. 

The stranger toppled over, though he wasn’t down immediately as it was clear he was trying to continue his attack. A second shot was necessary, and even then he wasn’t particularly easy to keep down. 

After catching their breath and letting free a couple of choice words, Boone turned sharply back to Julie. 

“Tell me what the fuck is happening, and tell me right now.

 

 

 

Despite claiming to be part of this Railroad organization, Doc Mitchell only watched in horror as the Courier’s convulsions had drawn to a halt and she lay unconscious in Veronica’s arms.

Arcade’s fears had come true, he decided, after both he and Veronica found themselves taking turns carrying the only half-conscious Ximena back along the road through which they came. The doctor had given them a rucksack full of things they’d find useful and had even insisted that they let him help, but Veronica had the innocent synth hoisted onto her back and was out the door before they could even discuss things further.   
“Veronica I can’t care for her out here! She shouldn’t be… slow down!”  
But of course she didn’t. No, she didn’t even consider it.   
“That old ass doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing and those Courser things already know where he is! It isn’t safe and I don’t want his shaky old man hands in her head again.”  
“He fixed her last time, he could fix her again, and he might be the only one who will know how!”   
“Bullshit, I could have picked out the pieces of lead and sewn her head back up! He’s not special!”  
“Veronica you aren’t thinking straight!”  
“Of course I’m not…”   
Ximena grumbled and shifted against her shoulder, which prompted Veronica to stop and let her down.   
“Hey, kid… talk to me!” Arcade held out a hand to steady her.   
“w-where are we? What are we…”  
“We left Goodsprings because your girlfriend panicked and jumped the gun.”  
Veronica huffed in annoyance. “You remember what happened?”  
“Uhhmmm… a little, I think. Synths, synth hunter who is a synth… trains? No, railroad. Yeah, Railroad.”  
Arcade swore under his breath.   
“Veronica doesn’t want to, but I think we should go back to Doc Mitchell. What do you think?”

Why the hell was he asking her anything when it was clear her circuits were fried?

“No, no I wanna… I wanna not think about this anymore. I wanna…”  
Her breath hitched and fell into short gasps, and for a moment they both prepared for the worst before the waterworks started up.   
“I wanna go home.”  
Arcade only nodded, did his best to rebandage her head, and consulted her pipboy map. 

Home, in this instance, had be the next best thing since the sky was dark and they were too far from the Strip.   
Veronica valiantly proclaimed she carry her and run her all the way back to their beloved casino home base, but it was clear to Arcade they needed somewhere safe to stop and collect themselves.   
There was only one place that was close enough to fit the bill. 

Being the wandering spirit she was, Ximena had a list of “safe” places to meet up should things go south, and the quaint little town of Novac was home to one of them.   
It was a motel room she had taken for her own purposes after Jeannie May Crawford got what was coming to her, which was a place they could get to within a reasonable amount of time. So, as the sun rose and the morning awoke in all its hot blistering glory, the three came hobbling their way past the giant green Dinky the Dinosaur and past a raging No-Bark to their inconspicuous temporary hideout. 

Arcade wished they had thought it all through, since they practically ran from the only one with answers as he was dispensing them, but that was the least of his worries now. 

Especially at the sight of the fourth guest waiting for them inside. 

Arcade need only to take one look at Craig Boone’s scowl to know they were all about to get one hell of a talking to. 

“You better start explaining, and in detail. Right. Now.”


	6. From Here on Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moments of respite don't often last

Arcade couldn’t tell what was going through Boone’s head as he paced a patch of dry earth bare outside he motel room door. He had divulged all they knew after convincing the old sniper to let the exhausted courier sleep inside while they discussed it outside, but even after so much explaining it all felt like something out of a cheesy pre-war B-movie. “This is fucked, Arcade.”  
“Preaching to the choir, as they say…”  
“How many of these… synths…do you think made it out here?”  
“Probably not many. Doc Mitchell hinted at this Railroad group not having a very easy time sending runaways out here. The Commonwealth is long ways away.”  
Boone yanked off his beret and rubbed at his head. “What the hell do we do about this?” Arcade just shrugged.  
“I’m inclined to say nothing, but I know that it won’t work out like that. I don’t know how many of these coursers we’ll have to deal with but…”  
His words fell flat with a heavy sigh. Boone looked him over a minute, and then plopped down onto the concrete curb next to him. 

 

“It’s good to see you in one piece, Arcade.”  
“Yeah, you too.” He let his fingers drift over to the other man’s hand in his lap, wrapping around his sweaty palm gingerly. “Let’s just take a breather, alright. Then we… we see what happens. If she gets worse…”  
“Worse?” Anxiety rippled through his voice.  
“Yeah, she had a bit of a fit in Goodsprings, and I’m worried there’s been more damage done than I thought.”  
“Well that’s just fucking great.”  
After a moment of painful silence, Arcade leaned his head onto Boone’s shoulder. “She’s a strong kid. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I think she’ll be just fine.”  
“Yeah, wishful thinking… how did she take it? Learning she’s a…”  
“Bad. You know how she’s always been… smartass little pain in the ass, all that… I have never seen her like that. She’s convinced she’s not human anymore.” Boone blew a shaky exhale out through his nose.  
“Craig, did she ever tell you where she was from? You’ve known her longer. She uh, told me she couldn’t remember.”  
“Um, she only told me a little bit a while ago. Her not remembering actually makes some sense, she didn’t wanna go into detail. She said one of her parents was NCR, and she came from California. I asked where, she didn’t say. With this new information, it’s possible that wasn’t true, right?”  
“It’s probably what she had been made to think. You know she can’t lie to save her life.” He chuckled at that.  
“It doesn’t matter though, does it?”  
“I suppose not. We all got something about ourselves that we don’t like.”

For a moment they sat completely still, and Arcade even let his eyes flutter shut… until he felt Boone go rigid beneath him.  
“What the fuck is that?”  
He pointed at the dark shape coming over the horizon.

 

 

Inside, Veronica sat cross-legged beside the lump that was her supposed-to-be sleeping girlfriend, munching on some leftover iguana bits that hadn’t gotten eaten earlier and had to get scarfed down before they spoiled.  
“Damn, V, could you chew any louder?” Ximena huffed, and Veronica chuckled. “Want one?” Ximena nodded and rolled over to take one from her outstretched hand.  
“Can I ask you something?”  
“Anything!” All of the young scribe’s attention quickly fell on her.  
“Who do think I was before the Railroad or whatever kicked me all the way out here?”  
“Dunno, I don’t know why the… Institute… or whatever… would make synths for. Labor?”  
“You can use a Mr. Handy for that and you wouldn’t have to worry about them escaping.”  
“Good point”  
“Sex bot?” Veronica snorted.  
“Gonna put fisto outta business.”  
“Somebody’s gotta? Have you seen his hands?”  
Veronica held her hands up, imitating claws like a crab, and gave her best fisto impression. “PLEASE ASSUME THE POSITION”.  
Ximena’s laugh, light and nasally as she buried her face in her elbow, made Veronica’s heart feel like it might just go and soar out of her chest.  
“FISTO REPORTING FOR DUTY.”  
“Stop it, your gonna make me pee!”  
“Or perhaps I should say reporting for…”  
“Don’t you dare!”  
“…booty…”  
Ximena’s chest heaved with laughter, nearly out of breath.  
"That was such a dumbass joke."  
Veronica swiped a tear away from her eye. 

“But really, I don’t think it matters, Ximena.” Veronica’s face became suddenly serious. “You’re still the person you always were. Nothing changed.”  
“Everything changed, V.”  
Her hand was soft of the young courier’s cheek. “Nothing that matters changed. I’m still here.”  
Ximena’s hand covered her’s, and a small smile tugged at her chapped lips.  
“Yeah, you are.” 

 

Just as the world seemed to be reduced to nothing but the two of them, no coursers or Fiends, Arcade and Boone came bursting in, guns drawn.

 

 

“Fuck, again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for it being so short, and sorry for the wait!


	7. Caesar’s Bull(Shit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things may be worse than they appear...

From their perch in the mouth of Dinky the Dinosaur, the approaching hoard was just a mass of red paint, feathers and pre-war sports gear as the legionaries seemed to stick together in a determined clump on the road leading through Novac. Arcade crouched behind Boone who was loading his rifle with a terrifying aura of determination, and Ximena leaned on Veronica back near the rusty door with her own weapon in hand. The entire town was abuzz with terrified wastelanders all scuttling for safety with the image of Nipton in their minds.  
“How many are there?” Arcade tried to count but he lacked the scope to see and count heads accurately.   
“Not as many as I thought, but thy could still do some damage and they may not be alone. This could be just the first wave.” 

Ximena’s ears rang as the first shot rang out. The second made her grab at her head. Irritation at the entire situation began to rear its ugly head and the sight of torches and that godforsaken golden bull made her wish she was down closer to them to give her a piece of her mind.   
When Veronica’s grip on her shoulder slackened with her not paying attention, she dipped down to her rucksack and began rooting around for one weapon in particular. 

Ximena had seen Nipton first hand and had dealt with plenty of the legion’s meathead footsoldiers. Synth or not, they weren’t getting past the dinosaur if she had any say in it.   
“Holy fuck!” 

The Courier stood beside Boone with Thump Thump at the ready, and Arcade simply sighed to himself. Of course.   
Boone tried to hide his smile.   
Angling the launcher up, there was soon a shower of explosives and a wall of fire forcing the legionaries to disperse, and gunshots from down below signaled that there was hope yet. Ranger Andy and Manny Vargas had taken positions below them and had taken to picking off stragglers. 

Everything quickly became a blur of noise and light, and seeing the legion at any sort of loss was a reason to crack a smile. Ximena barely noticed she was swaying on her feet. Veronica, however, did notice. 

She watched as Ximena lowered Thump Thump to reload and paused halfway through, and she swore the light behind her eye fizzled out. 

“Ximena?” The grenade launcher thudded at her feet. “Ximena!”   
Boone turned his head slightly but dare not take his eyes off his scope no matter how much his heart dropped. He could feel Arcade jumping to his feet to catch her, and he assumed she was having another fit or had fainted. 

Of course, it was worse than that.   
She didn’t fall or falter, but rather stumbled and immediately stood unnaturally straight with her gaze vacant and facing forward like a prewar statue. There was suddenly no life behind her gaze and Veronica felt her whole body turn ice cold. “Ximena! Snap out of it!”  
Arcade could only think to kick her destructive weapon away from her as the sounds of fighting below grew distant with the change in focus.  
He waved a hand in front of her, apprehensive and unsure as to whether or not he should move forward. 

It was clear the synth in front of him was malfunctioning. 

“Ximena please!”   
“Kid you gotta snap out of it!”   
“XIMENA!” Veronica was moments from slapping her across the face in a desperate attempt to get her back. 

Ximena’s chin dropped, and her one exposed eye rolled forward.   
After a few painful seconds, she blinked and slumped forward again.   
Arcade put both hands on her biceps and shook ever so slightly.   
“Come of Ximena, pull through it…”   
“Shit’s getting hairy Arcade, what the fuck is happening?!” Boone’s voice boomed in the small half-confined space. 

The courier closed her eye, and then opened it again with a painful-looking jerk as if all her muscles contracted and spasmed in unison. She drew in a huge breath and blinked furiously, and was quickly overwhelmed with the sensation of what THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED…

“What the hell was that?!” Veronica shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Did you hear it?” Ximena’s voice was startlingly low.

“Hear what?”

“The voice.”

“Our voices? We were pretty goddamn loud!”

“No no, his voice.”

“Who’s voice” Arcade and Veronica shared terrified glances.

“HIS voice!”

“Ximena come on, more information.”

“Father. I heard Father’s voice.”


End file.
